A Sardine on Vacation, Episode 7
Three Hairpieces

One member of the Logged-in Public has written:

Dear Mr. Sardine,
I am waiting for you to name the several inexplicable things.
We tend to agree with your non-choices. We can't wait for the next column.

How far was the letter writer's reaction from the growling, shouting, and shoving which greeted the Sardine after he had finished the column. The L-I P wasn't going to let him leave his computer! He managed to escape only by promising to tell them next time what they wanted to know.

You may be wondering why they haven't charged into this column by now, as it appears obvious the Sardine hasn't honored his word. The answer must be that the L-I P didn't care very strongly about what it thought were inexplicable things.

However, the L-I P gave the Sardine an idea for a column during their brief but indelicate confrontation. They were insisting that one of these "things" must be toupees, more specifically, bad toupees.

How could one account for people, "men" to be exact, who knew they would subject to the most derisive ridicule when spotted with a hairpiece?

The only answer--and it takes but one answer to make something not inexplicable--is that these men don't know how awful they look! A not-so-easily-put-off L-I P member retorted: "It must be inexplicable that they can't apprehend the basic fact that they look so horrendous."

The Sardine believed the truth of his position since he could point to three examples. Three examples from the same place, a restaurant-bar frequented by him nearly every day.

Joe T., a bartender. Frank Weathers, a longtime friend. Benny McSelf, the nightly entertainer (except Sunday).

Joe T. knew when he was twenty years old he was doomed to have a chrome dome. By twenty-three, a bald spot had started. Twenty-five, the first hair plugs.

Joe thought that his love life would be hampered by upper surface exposure; he was also aware of the aforesaid hairpiece problem. The question with hair plugs was the cost, five to seven thousand dollars before it was over (another answer to the 'why' of bad hairpieces: no inexpensive alternatives).

A second problem dogged Joe after the operation. His own hair, above the neckline, had been used for the plugs and this was causing him extreme pain for a week. All for Joe's desire for a love life.

He checked his hair growth every hour for six months. It didn't appear as if his new hair growth would cloak his shame.

Never fear said his hair doctor, for another two thousand dollars…

Another hair implantation.

More pain.

Seven years later, the spot, had finally filled in. During half that time, Joe bore the undercurrent of ridicule over the money he had spent and for looking like a Chia pet. But Joe was satisfied that real hair covered his pate. From certain angles, even his hairline didn't appear to have receded very far.

The Sardine's friend, Frank, is a regular customer at the restaurant. He earns over a hundred thousand dollars a year in the insurance business. At age fifty-four, after a long slow hair loss made him look older than the thirty years he affected, he decided to buy a hairpiece.

He knew there would be comments over his changed appearance and faced a quandary. His vanity made him buy the hairpiece; his vanity on another level would smart at remarks about the piece. Finally, he compromised and found a toupee that was natural looking enough that strangers couldn’t tell whether he was wearing one. Also, he was quick to joke with friends about wearing a hairpiece, adding that he needed it to protect his head from the sun on the golf course. I n no time, he felt comfortable enough under his rug to mock Joe. T.'s plugs of hair.

If anyone had reason to wear a hairpiece, an entertainer could justify himself. Benny McSelf worked in a profession of appearances. His real hair had not suffered grave ravages by the age of forty, only a cogent thinning in the front. Two years ago, he appeared at his piano not only with a fuller head of hair but with what appeared to be a chinchilla up there.

The reaction was swift. People forgot Joe T. There was a new person to ridicule at the restaurant. Joe was never happier, although he didn't take Frank Weathers' tack and spoof the McSelf roadkill.

Everyone agreed that Benny's choice of hairpieces defied all reason. More than Joe's hunt for women and Frank's desire to look thirty, Benny's livelihood depended on his appearance. The Sardine would grudgingly admit Benny's as an act of individualized inexplicability, far exceeding the boundaries announced in the previous column.

The hairpiece was so awful, in fact, that people were afraid to mention the subject of hair around Benny.

Here, the Sardine thought, was Benny's genius. He never acted as if he were sporting his own hair. Consequently, the awful hairpiece would prevent those who had known what Benny's hair looked like originally to mention it publicly. His shame at losing his hair would be turned back toward the potential ridiculer.

Only in show business.

The Sardine's essays, articles, and stories have appeared around the Internet in the last few years at 3 A.M., Facets, Eclectica magazine, Fiction Funhouse, The Fiction Warehouse, 5_trope, and several film journals. Who and what he is probably will be revealed at various points through the articles appearing at this site. If you want to reach him, his address is popesixtus@aol.com.